


Recoil

by fourteenlines



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 17:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourteenlines/pseuds/fourteenlines
Summary: Crying never done nobody no good.
Kudos: 4





	Recoil

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted circa 2003 to Firefly Friday.

She didn't cry.

Blood mixed with dirt, stung her scraped-up knees and dirtied her dress. Mama said ain't so point in puttin' her in trousers: she'd only wear holes in 'em. When Zoe fell, she fell on bare skin.

Papa had a hunting rifle. Sometimes he'd take her out with him, let her sight along the barrel of his gun. He let her fire it once, and the recoil left her flat on her backside. It was more surprising than scary, and her shoulder ached for weeks.

Crying never done nobody no good.

She didn't cry when she was almost all grown up and the Alliance men came with their shiny guns and fancy uniforms and made Papa put away his hunting rifle. Seemed killin' things just wasn't civilized.

There were all these new rules and nothing was the same. Mama got thin and Zoe got thinner, and since it weren't nothing to cry over, Zoe stole Papa's gun. Wrapped it up in pretty things so's nobody would find it.

Weren't no girl soldiers in the Alliance army, but the Independents weren't particular.

Blood mixes with dirt on her uniform, oozing out of a bullet wound. She still doesn't cry.


End file.
